


Piece of the Puzzle

by JaybirdSpectacular



Series: FE3H Demi Fics [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Brief Mention of Blood, Demi!Ashe, Demisexuality, FE3H AceAro Week, Falling In Love, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, First Kiss, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Post-Canon, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29362020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaybirdSpectacular/pseuds/JaybirdSpectacular
Summary: A puzzle piece he didn’t even know he had lost is suddenly in his hands, and he is looking at his life, trying to decide where the piece goes, how it relates to this new feeling. He is lost, spiraling, too many realizations crashing upon him at once.The first is that he is definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, in love with Dedue.The second is that he, for the first time, desires to kiss someone.And that someone is Dedue.For FE3H AceAro Week, Free Day/Discovery
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Series: FE3H Demi Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154354
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26
Collections: FE3H - Ace/Aro Week





	Piece of the Puzzle

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again to my beta reader! You help give my fics life and I appreciate you so much.

When they reunite for the Millennium Festival, one is missing despite the promise they all made those five long years ago. Ashe imagines that everyone feels as he does about their missing friend, about _his_ missing friend— yet he is the one who cries the longest and loudest when Dedue does not show, when Dimitri reveals the painful truth.

He chides himself; tears are not a measure of devotion. Surely the others are just as torn over the loss as he.

A scant week later, however, he hears Dedue’s name pass from no lips besides his own— except for the mutterings of Dimitri. A ghost relegated to the past.

Dedue deserves better than this, Ashe thinks. He takes it upon himself to remember and cherish Dedue’s memory, to not forget and discard it. The choice of _how_ is easy. There is one place that, despite the years of rot and inattention, still holds a fleeting memory of Dedue. Dedue’s garden in the greenhouse is still living, albeit barely, the stubborn greens fading to waning browns. It takes almost all of Ashe’s limited free time to revitalize and regrow as much as he can save, and he is rewarded when many of the blooms return beautifully. To his shock, knowing the delicate nature of the flowers, Dedue’s beloved Duscur Lilies, deep blue with long petals, the edges softly jagged, thrive under Ashe’s care. Not as well as when Dedue raised them, but it’s all Ashe can do.

Every time he visits the flowers, he finds himself tracing his fingers over the petals, imagining that somehow, his friend can feel the touch and knows someone still cares for him. Regardless of how Dedue had, at first, tried to distance himself from Ashe, they always found each other again, usually because Ashe pushed, an orbit into which Ashe found himself implicitly drawn, and one from which he would never hope to break free. 

The memories of their school days hurt, a kind of deep throb that would take him by surprise, scratch against his ribs, make him stop and shut his eyes just to numb the pain. As Ashe sought Dedue out, Dedue began to open up to Ashe. His thoughts, his worries, his memories both good and bad. They had more in common than Ashe realized, more than met the eye, and Ashe wanted more than anything to be Dedue’s friend.

And, near the end of those days, Ashe thought maybe it could have blossomed into something else. Maybe it was already something else.

He’ll never know, now.

He thinks this as he feels the petals underneath his thumb and hopes that Dedue knew.

\---

He can’t help but to see Dedue everywhere in the monastery. It’s ridiculous that Ashe thinks he sees Dedue’s ghost in the greenhouse, his figure in the kitchen. The empty place next to Dimitri. Dedue’s flickering memory stands at his door, smiling as Ashe leaves his room, unable to sleep, two specters passing in the night. In the classroom, in the chapel, regarding the statue of the Goddess with detached interest. The only phantom that Ashe has ever prayed he _could_ see. Ashe remembers him by the Duscur foods he tries to recreate, just like Dedue taught him, feeling the ghostly hand of Dedue over his own, guiding him.

They always have just a little too much salt, in the end.

\---

The Bridge of Myrddin comes far too close to disaster. They had charged in, unready, unhinged, but not unafraid. They are losing and surrounded, and the end seems close for their campaign. Dimitri will probably survive, but for how long without the support of his army— his friends?

Ashe says goodbye and sorry to his siblings, keeping the words close to his heart. It’s useless, he knows, but he hopes some whisper of feeling reaches them.

It doesn’t have to when Dedue saves them. Dedue, of whom they had all given up on, moved on without (not Ashe, never Ashe), brings with him reinforcements. Hope. Without him, the army would have been as dead as they had presumed Dedue to be. But he wasn’t, Goddess above, he _isn’t._

He is alive, bruised and scarred more than the rest of them, but alive. Ashe can scarcely believe it. It only barely surprises him that he longs to trace Dedue’s arm, Dedue’s skin much like he had the flowers, feel him, make sure he’s real. Ashe doesn’t think much of the flittering thought, accepting it as overwhelming joy.

It is enough, more than enough, when Dedue graces Ashe with his smile, small and precious as always, as it always was and has been and will be.

He’s alive and real.

\---

Ashe and Dedue fall back into a somewhat regular routine after their return to the monastery. Taking on kitchen duty more than necessary, training longer than their bodies should be able to handle. They throw themselves into their work. But they do it all together, the two of them, like before. More than before, as Ashe thinks he’s seen more of Dedue these past couple of moons than he did the entire school year. Which is just as well. Ashe is selfish and greedy deep down, he knows, and he finds himself wanting as much time as he can steal away with Dedue.

They don’t have much time for relaxing, simply enjoying each other’s presence once again, but still, Ashe feels that their bond is stronger than ever.

Dedue’s eyes water the first time he sees his garden, thriving and luscious.

“You did this?” he asks. At Ashe’s nod, he smiles. “Thank you.”

Ashe gasps as he is pulled into a tight hug but relaxes easily, melts into the warmth and joy, soaking it up, a flower seeing the sunlight after days and days of clouds.

It’s Dedue. Ashe is powerless to respond any other way.

\---

The war is over as Edelgard meets her end, throwing them all into the after. The final battle is quick and silent, only Dimitri and Byleth locked in the throne room with her. Only they bear witness to the end. But from the hellish den emerge their king and past professor, splattered with blood— a crimson red that is the hailing mark of their victory.

Cheers break out among the ranks of remaining Kingdom army. Ashe is looking, looking for each of his friends— each safe. They made it, injured, broken in ways, but they made it. He catches a glimpse of Dedue who is looking at Dimitri, radiant joy, and pride writ on his face. And Ashe warms, watching him.

And then, he burns. Dedue’s turquoise eyes finds Ashe’s, his expression dissolving into something so tender, so intimate, that Ashe can’t look away, that it feels like they’re the only two in the crowd.

A look for Ashe, and Ashe alone. Something rare and precious and— 

Ashe’s blood rushes through his ears, and suddenly, he can’t feel his hands, thinks his legs might collapse under him, thinks he could be dying and coming to life at the same time.

For the first time, the feelings that beat in Ashe’s chest are palpable, traceable, solid.

\--

They throw a banquet barely a week later, in honor of the King, in celebration of the victory.

Dimitri was uncomfortable with the unnecessary spending, throwing wealth about when the rest of the continent was still desolate, still without hope. They will have this one party, _this one party,_ and then they get to work. Still, no one really believes that Dimitri will stay the entire time. They know he will retire to his office and will work through the night. So, they celebrate while they can.

Dedue and Ashe, though not once asked, find themselves in the kitchen seasoning this, tasting that, twirling through the thick smell of sugars and spices and smoke. Being in the kitchen together is natural. They find themselves orbiting each other, spinning deftly out of each other’s way and into each other’s space in perfect tandem. Ashe has the exact spice Dedue needs, trading spice for knife with elegant fingers. A dance in the kitchen mirroring the dances outside.

Eventually, everything is finished. There is nothing else, no food, no drinks, to go out to the party, at least not for now. Dimitri has invited everyone who lives and works in Fhirdiad Castle to join the celebrations, much to the anxiety of Felix, meant to be shielding him. The kitchen staff seems unsure about leaving their work, but Ashe shoos them on, happy to linger behind with Dedue.

Ashe closes the door behind the last maid as he waves her goodbye, practically pushing her along, and then they are alone.

“You should go out there,” Dedue says in a low voice. Ashe turns to face Dedue, taking him in.

“This is the first time we’ve been alone since the… since Enbarr,” Ashe says, coming closer and throwing himself to sit up on the countertop, his legs dangling over. “I’ve missed you.”

To Ashe’s surprise, a faint blush blossoms on Dedue’s cheeks. “Oh?” The thought that the blush is a lovely color on Dedue wedges itself into Ashe’s mind, and Ashe sighs happily, crinkling his nose in mock indignation.

“’Oh?’ What do you mean by ‘oh,’ Dedue?”

“I’m surprised to find that someone cares enough about me to miss me.”

Ashe sputters, wants to cry out, has to fight the urge to scream, to yell just how much he _did_ miss Dedue. He only barely holds in the full rush of emotions, but still, he lets it trickle out.

“Of course I care!” Ashe exclaims, slamming his hands into his lap. “We’re friends— Dedue, when I thought you were dead, I thought—” he cuts himself off, biting off words that sound too intimate, to raw to be said right now. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” he whispers quietly instead.

The blush fades as quickly as it came replaces by a furrowed brow, a downturn of Dedue’s soft-looking lips. The expression only lasts a flickering moment before it sputters into Dedue’s normal neutrality.

“Right.” Dedue’s expression softens into a warm smile, a warmth that Ashe finds himself cradled in, lost. “I care deeply for our friendship.”

Ashe’s heart thumps in his chest and he can’t answer. Dedue’s eyes sparkle, his face sharp and handsome, soft, and beautiful, and Ashe’s eyes are drawn done to Dedue’s lips. They look so soft and smooth. They’re moving, Dedue is saying something, but Ashe doesn’t hear the words, head spinning, world tilting and shifting colors.

A puzzle piece he didn’t even know he had lost is in his hands, and he is looking at his life, trying to decide where it goes, how it relates to this new feeling. He is lost, spiraling, too many realizations crashing upon him at once.

The first is that he is definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, in love with Dedue.

The second is that he, for the first time, _desires_ to kiss someone.

And that someone is Dedue.

It’s not that he hasn’t kissed anyone. He tried, a few times in the Academy, spurred on by curiosity from his novels. It wasn’t with anyone he felt romantically inclined to, just friends he trusted, the type of people he thought he _should_ fall in love with and kiss, the idea, the _concept_ of kissing urging him on more than the desire. Felix, for one, was a very strange, uncomfortable evening. Annette was sweet, but still, something was missing. Neither felt like what he thought it would. He cared for his friends immensely, but it still felt like something wasn’t… connecting. Like they were speaking the same language, only using different words.

By the time he began to realize his feelings for Dedue, he had come to accept that maybe, maybe he couldn’t feel that desire. That he wouldn’t. And that is okay. He had been mistaken as a teenager, that love required kissing, that kissing required love. It doesn’t.

What he has with Dedue is different, special in a way that makes Ashe crave being around Dedue, like a bee to nectar, a flower turning to the sun, shelter under a broad, leafy tree on a hot summer day. He loves Dedue for Dedue and nothing else than for being himself.

With Dedue, he feels like they had a lot in common. Not just the surface level interests, but something deep, running to their core, an inexplicable bond that could be shared with no other. Ashe wants—

Ashe wants to explore that bond, follow it as far down as it goes. He wants closeness. He wants to get as close to Dedue as he can, huddled to him much like he would a hearth on a cold Ethereal Moon night. He _wants_ intimacy.

He wonders if kissing Dedue would bring him that.

“Ashe?” Dedue says as he shakes Ashe by the shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. Ashe blinks at him. “What happened?” Dedue’s hand lingers, gripping on to Ashe’s shoulder, and Ashe crosses his arm across his chest, covers Dedue’s hand with his own.

Ashe watches Dedue carefully, studying and memorizing his face, for another beat before answering.

“I love you.”

Like that answers everything, like that is the answer to his thoughts and his feelings. Like that will explain just how deeply he really feels.

Dedue’s eyes widen in shock even as he moves closer to Ashe, “Do you mean that? Are you sure?” Ashe spreads his knees to accommodate Dedue coming closer to him, orbits derailing and colliding.

“Yes. Will you…” Ashe starts, trailing off, unsure of himself.

Dedue cups Ashe’s face, and Ashe lays his hands on Dedue’s forearms, gripping tightly to the cloth of his jacket. “Ashe, I love you, more than you could possibly know. Will I what?”

“Kiss m—”

Ashe doesn’t even finish the sentence before Dedue’s lips are on his. And it’s…

It’s nice. Better than it’s felt before, but…

Ashe doesn’t know how he feels.

As Dedue’s lips moves against his, he appreciates how soft the kiss is. He appreciates the physical contact. And there is a spark, something simmering beneath the surface. But it’s almost like there’s a missing piece. Something that connects the touch to him, to his feelings. That puzzle piece in Ashe’s fingers is not quite fitting here. _Goddess above_ , does he love Dedue. But still.

Kissing doesn’t mean love.

Dedue pulls away, a curious look on his face. He is slightly red, but Ashe knows that Dedue immediately sees through him. “You don’t like it?” he asks, but nothing to betray what he feels, if he’s upset by it.

Ashe shakes his head. “It’s not that, exactly. I don’t know. It’s nice, it feels nice. I love you, really, but…”

Dedue smiles. “I love you. We don’t have to do anything. As long as I can be with you, I’m more than happy.”

Ashe pulls him closer, hands cupped around Dedue’s face, puts a soft kiss on Dedue’s head. “Thank you, Dedue.”

\---

It has been several moons since that time in the kitchen. A birthday has come and gone for Ashe and Dedue both. They both have accepted and taken up positions in Fhirdiad, Ashe as a knight, and Dedue as the right-hand of the King. They see each other most days, spend their evenings together, spend more nights than not wrapped up in each other’s arms and blankets.

Their relationship is going well, Ashe thinks. He has let the comfort of it surround him, cushion him.

Something nags at him, though. Day by day, settled between his eyes and fingers where he can feel it but never see it, always there and just out of sight. Before anything, he is friends with Dedue, and that forms the foundation of their growing love.

As much as he felt he knew Dedue before, it compares to nothing now. This is completely new. Gentle words and touches that Ashe had never imagined, nights spent cuddled together, warm and safe. It’s embarrassing how much more he falls for Dedue, how much more, as he reveals himself and his vulnerabilities, he comes to fully, completely trust Dedue. Dedue has seen him early in the morning, before wakefulness has reached his mind, and late at night, when the nightmares come for them both. Ashe has seen Dedue become frustrated, has seen him as he stares into the fire, some distant memories at the edge of his mind, somewhere Ashe can’t reach but can brush away with his touch.

As much as he had loved and trusted Dedue before, this new side, this new dynamic, is revealing and coaxing out more. A bond deeper and deeper.

And with every fraction, every step he comes to trust Dedue more, comes the buzzing thought of kissing him again.

He’s really, really confused.

The puzzle piece hasn’t shifted, but something else has. Himself, as he stares down at the puzzle, perhaps, vying to find the angle that makes it fit.

He wonders why this is happening like this. He’s never heard of someone understanding, feeling, cultivating their desire so slowly. He tries to not compare himself with Sylvain, really, but it seems like most people around Ashe feel attraction almost immediately. With Ashe, it has been different. He felt attracted to Dedue from the start, but not like how others have described it. Now, it feels like there’s yet another kind of attraction, growing slowly, almost painfully, but it grows so, so sweetly that it has found its way to his core where it warms him from the inside out, burning and saccharine.

Why now, as a twenty-three-year-old adult, is he thinking seriously about attraction, about kissing, about all of this?

The obvious answer is that there was a war, but that didn’t stop others from finding and taking lovers despite the fighting and bloodshed.

It hadn’t crossed his mind seriously as something that he would enjoy. He just.

He just wanted to be around Dedue then.

He wants to be around Dedue now.

\---

Ashe finds his— he finds Dedue in the greenhouse. Ashe stands at the entrance to the greenhouse watching his love for a moment. Since moving into the castle permanently, Dedue seems to have his hands everywhere in the greenhouse. He treats each flower, each vine, and every single leaf with focused, tender care.

Today, he is in his personal section. It is full of flowers he has cultivated himself, the seeds taken from Garreg Mach, originally taken from Duscur. It took a lot of time and effort on his part, but the love shows. Little yellow flowers are interspaced with vines sporting pinks and purples; bushes of fragrant white flowers fill the air with a soft perfume. The flowers of Duscur flow open and free like a soft silk, each a unique shape not found in Fódlan. Stars, thick layered blooms, soft bulbs, each adding a layer of texture and color that stand out against the rest of the greenhouse.

Dedue is tending to his favorite, the Duscur Lily. He grows only two of his precious flowers. They are stubborn and wont to wilt if not given proper care. How the ones in Garreg Mach survived, Ashe doesn’t understand. Maybe they absorbed Dedue’s defiant stubbornness. How Ashe managed to keep them alive, he will never know, though the ones he tended to have nothing on Dedue’s beautiful blooms, a deeper and more vibrant hue of blue, the blossoms large and full.

Dedue is so talented, Ashe thinks, that it wouldn’t be amiss for him to retire and cultivate fields upon fields of plants. Maybe Ashe could join him, meet him out in the field, pull Dedue down into the soft flowers with him.

Ashe shakes his head with a sigh before moving carefully to Dedue. He sits with his arms around his knees next to where Dedue is working. It’s comfortable simply being near him.

“I wondered how long you would stand there,” Dedue says without looking at Ashe.

“You knew I was there? I must be losing my touch,” Ashe replied, but Dedue hums thoughtfully.

“No, that isn’t it. I just know when you’re around.”

Ashe smirks, “That’s some talent, Dedue.”

“Not a talent. Just an effect of our relationship.”

Something warm builds in Ashe’s stomach, ticklish and alive, His heart starts skipping beats and he gulps. He wants to reach out, take Dedue’s hand, pull him closer, pull Dedue to him, pull Dedue’s lips against his.

Ashe feels dizzy for a moment as he realizes something new about himself, suddenly flaring into startling clarity.

The puzzle shifts, and he shifts with it. It becomes just a fraction clearer, a slot for the puzzle piece opens, the outline nearly perfectly matched.

It’s not that he was completely uninterested before. But it’s like the closer he feels emotionally to Dedue, the more he wants to feel physically closer to him. Like their bond is a rope between them, pulling them closer and closer together, shortening day by day.

It’s okay. It’s strange, to him, how strongly he’s beginning to feel these feelings, but it’s okay because it’s _Dedue_ he feels this way for _._ It’s _Dedue_ , who has picked Ashe up again and again, who has let Ashe into his life little by little, showing him his multifaceted self.

If it’s Dedue, if it’s Dedue, then…

“I want to kiss you again, and maybe,” Ashe whispers, “maybe more.”

Time grounds to a halt as the words roll off his tongue. Dedue freezes in place, his hand holding the trowel just above the soil. Dedue looks at him with a question written on his face. A light blush has coated his cheeks and Ashe thinks it’s painfully beautiful. He wants to see more—

Ashe bolts up and steps back.

“Ashe,” Dedue starts, but Ashe has already begun his retreat.

\---

Ashe has expected the knock on his door all evening, but he still slams his book shut with a yelp when he hears it. Belatedly, he realizes he forgot to mark his page, but it really doesn’t matter. He hadn’t moved from the same page in nearly half an hour. He had been flipping through one of his favorite romances. He adores romances— the love between the characters building slowly, so slowly through the pages, the heated first kisses, the passionate nights.

Why now, when it was happening to him, was he so nervous?

He stands and goes to the door, his hand lingering for a moment.

“Ashe, it’s okay,” comes Dedue’s voice, “I would just like to talk.” Right, right. Of course. No reason to be nervous. It’s Dedue.

Ashe takes a deep breath, opens the door, and is nearly crushed in relief at just the sight of Dedue on the other side. Relief, and a pounding heart. His blood is rushing through his ears, and he thinks there’s a slight tremble in his fingers. He’s being silly, he thinks as he watches Dedue’s smile form as he light from Ashe’s room washes over him.

“How did you know I was here?” Ashe asks in an echo of their meeting earlier.

“I just know,” Dedue answers, the smile sharpening into a teasing smirk, “And I could see your shadow under the door.”

Ashe blushes and looks to the ground where he traitorous shadow stares back at him, “Ah. Right, well. Come in, please.”

They find themselves seated at an awkward distance, as Dedue takes Ashe’s seat at his desk and Ashe flops himself onto his bed. Ashe twiddles his thumbs as he collects his thoughts, hoping that Dedue will speak first. He won’t, of course, not in this situation. That is something Ashe loves about him. Dedue is patient, gentle, coaxes words to the surface, not unlike the delicate flowers that he grows.

Ashe’s mind flickers for but a brief moment to how else Dedue could coax him and he swallows hard. That thought can (and will?) be addressed later, a piece of the puzzle to be placed eventually. But now, he needs to speak carefully, handle this situation smoothly.

“I haven’t really thought about kissing and sex until very recently, except for some mild curiosity as a teen, but now I do and it’s all about you, and I am twenty-three, and I don’t know why this is just now happening to me.” Very good. Very careful. That was very smooth.

Dedue hums, unphased by Ashe’s rambling, far too used to it by now. “And it worries you?”

“A little,” Ashe admits, biting his lower lip, “I mean, from what I heard—”

“Please tell me you are not comparing yourself to Sylvain.” Ashe feels himself redden, confirms it when Dedue chuckles. “Some people don’t feel immediate attraction, or none at all. It’s okay.”

“You think?”

“I know. You’re not the first person I’ve heard of like this. You’re perfect the way you are,” says Dedue, his tone so warm and so deep and Ashe is getting lost in the timbre of it. “Some people don’t feel attraction until they feel an emotional bond with another.” Dedue doesn’t elaborate more on who else he’s heard of like this, and Ashe wants to push, but for now, he’ll let it slide.

“Then why haven’t I felt this way until now? Because I swear to you, Dedue, I’ve loved you for a long time. It’s just… this part is new to me,” Ashe says, worried that maybe, he’s offended Dedue, that he’s made Dedue believe Ashe doesn’t love him.

Dedue simply shrugs, “I cannot tell you how to feel, Ashe. I can only support you, offer my ear when you need to talk. And you cannot control it. Maybe you just needed a deeper bond, or a different one than friendship or new love. Or time. There’s no right or wrong way to all of this. It just is.”

“I feel like I’m spiraling over something really small.”

“It’s not small. Learning a new part of yourself is always intimidating. You can talk to me. Or, any of our friends would listen.”

“Dimitri?” Ashe says with a smirk.

“I’m sure His Majesty would try very hard to help you before directing you to me,” Dedue says with a matching smirk.

Ashe sighs, happier this time, the weight beginning to lift off his shoulders. He feels better, lighter now. He’s been ridiculous about this, hasn’t he? All he needed was to talk about it with Dedue. Ashe looks at his love, taking in his face, scars and all, completely relaxed. Ashe lets himself relax, too. And as he relaxes, he thinks.

This next part, he thinks, isn’t a deeper part of their bond. This is something different, exciting, a way to express how close they are. He doesn’t need it, but he wants it. He _wants_ it.

“I love you,” he says, “and… I trust you. Completely. I thought I did before, but these past few moons… and now… I feel so much closer to you than before.” He stands and walks over to Dedue, slowly, pausing for a moment before him. He sits in Dedue’s lap, feet dangling to one side, his arms laced around the back of Dedue’s broad shoulders to stabilize himself. This close to Dedue, Ashe can smell the light scent of the greenhouse, airy and fresh, the spices clinging to his skin, Dedue’s own personal scent, enticing in a way that Ashe has never noticed until now. He feels himself shaking. Dedue’s hands go to Ashe’s hips to help, broad hands laying on the jutting bones of Ashe’s hips in a way that tingles.

Ashe ignores the want in his belly that screams for him to move closer, remove some of the pesky clothes that are in the way, run his hands up Dedue’s toned stomach and chest. He wants, oh Goddess does he want, but he’s afraid it’s too much for him right now. Instead, he looks Dedue straight in the eye and asks:

“May I kiss you?”

“Yes, Ashe, ye—”

Dedue can’t even finish speaking before Ashe pushes his lips against Dedue’s chastely, gently. Ashe lets his eyes flutter closed as he kisses Dedue, moving his lips just enough to feel Dedue’s under his own.

The first time they kissed had been nice, pleasant. This is something entirely different. Ashe feels like he’s beginning to burn from the toes up, the flames amassing in his stomach, so strongly it almost hurts. But the kiss is soft, so soft, and Ashe hums contently. He can feel Dedue’s smile.

It’s the softness that does it, the warmth and the gentleness and the comfort that is Dedue. Ashe feels something in his core, in the deepest places of his body heat up, a pot over the fire, the liquid boiling over and out through his skin, burning him in the most delightful heat.

Ashe is the one who deepens the kiss, opening his mouth and teasing with his tongue. Coaxing at Dedue’s lower lip, asking gently for permission. Dedue readily opens for him, tangling themselves together. Tasting and testing one another, exploring one another deeply. Dedue tastes like ginger tea, Ashe thinks absently as he drinks in more and more, letting himself feel more deeply, more slowly.

He stands, adjusts so that he’s straddling Dedue’s lap, and dives back in, pushes their lips back together, nipping softly at Dedue’s bottom lip to regain entrance. Dedue happily obliges and tilts his head just so to get a better angle on Ashe. Ashe sighs contently as Dedue weaves his hand through his hair, tugging enough to make Ashe’s entire body shudder. Dedue’s hand on the back of Ashe’s head encourages Ashe closer, just shy of demanding. The connection is like a thunder spell is ricocheting through him in all the right ways, lighting up his nerves and sparking him alive.

Ashe works his own fingers into Dedue’s white locks, pulling it out of its neat style so that his hair flows over his shoulders. Dedue has blessedly allowed it to grow out over the past year, and it falls past his shoulders now, and he is _beautiful_. Ashe shifts closer, nearly lining them flush together, leaving only a small gap between their bodies that is rapidly filled with heat and excitement and apprehension. Ashe tugs at Dedue’s hair and feels Dedue shiver under him.

They finally break apart for air, taking in each other intently, eyes roving over each other’s bodies, hands tangled in each other’s hair, arms wrapped tightly around each other. Dedue’s pupils are blown wide and he is slightly flushed. His lips are glistening, and Ashe can’t take his eyes from them.

Dedue leans in again, and Ashe mirrors him, thinking it’s for more of _that_ kissing. But instead, Dedue’s deft, skilled fingers, the same ones that treat his garden so tenderly, that brush Ashe’s hair back from his eyes, go to the wooden buttons of Ashe’s collar and begin unweaving them, down to Ashe’s collarbone, down to his chest. It feels conspiratorial, that Dedue’s fingers and lips work together in such perfect harmony for the sole purpose of reaching Ashe’s vulnerable neck. Dedue ducks his head down to Ashe’s neck and begins laying kisses there, chaste and testing at first. Up and down, lingering in the hollow at the base of his neck. Ashe nearly keens at the feel of Dedue’s tongue, tasting him even here. He wonders, briefly, where else on his body Dedue could taste him. Instead of following those thoughts, he pulls at Dedue’s hair a bit harder, earning a delicious hum deep from Dedue’s chest, and the soft flick of Dedue’s tongue becomes nibbling, light sucking, and Ashe’s mind spins. His body quakes with the liquid desire roiling lazily through his veins, vibrates with taunt coil of tension straining tighter and tighter inside him.

But then Dedue begins pushing, pressing in firmer with his lips. The hand on Ashe’s hip grips him harder, pulls him in, Dedue’s thumb roving in rhythmic, goading circles against the fabric of Ashe’s pants, close, so close to the part of Ashe’s body where all the heat and pressure is coalescing together. He wants to shift, wants to push himself against Dedue, wants to slot their bodies perfectly together, relieve some of the pressure, only barely holding himself back under the steady hand at his hips. Ashe’s hand, the one not tangling itself in Dedue’s hair like a lifeline, finds its way under Dedue’s shirt, begins feeling its way across Dedue’s hard abs and broad chest. The yearning filters down through Ashe’s veins, through his entire body. Dedue is tasting, flickering his tongue across Ashe’s sensitive skin. Ashe’s heart is pounding, and he wonders if Dedue can feel it under his lips, if he can taste Ashe’s nerves and excitement rushing through his blood, down to his very core—

Ashe feels the scrape of Dedue’s teeth as he bites down lightly at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and Ashe moans loudly, so loudly that he surprises himself. He tenses, solidifies, and Dedue pauses his kisses. For a moment, the only sound between them is their heavy breathing, synced to each other in a beating rhythm.

Dedue buries his face in Ashe’s neck, hiding his expression, his warm breath soaking into Ashe’s skin. When Ashe can finally feel his fingers again, he gently smooths his fingers through Dedue’s silky hair, down the back of his head and neck, cradling him in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“Was that too much?” Ashe asks in a dry, rough voice, far deeper than his voice has ever sounded to himself. Dedue chuckles and it rumbles through Ashe, sparking at his skin again, but he pushes the urge down this time.

It’s a relief to hear Dedue’s voice sound as broken as Ashe’s, raw and deep, “I should be asking you that, my love.”

A shiver cascades down Ashe’s spine at the affectionate name. “I’m okay. Goddess, I’m more than okay. We should do that more.” He plants a kiss on the side of Dedue’s head where he can reach. “Later, that’s…that was great.”

“I agree,” Dedue answers. His arms wrap around Ashe’s waist and pulls Ashe closer, squeezing tightly. Ashe keeps trailing his hand down Dedue’s back in rhythmic patterns. The other twists and pulls lightly through Dedue’s hair.

“I love you,” Ashe says as he smiles, unable to contain the bubbling feeling, the puzzle piece finally finding a home.

“And I you. I love you more than you know,” Dedue answers, finally pulling back and placing a kiss to Ashe’s forehead. “Whatever you want to do Ashe, at your own pace. Slowly or not at all. I just want to be with you.”

“I feel the same. Thank you for being so patient.”

Dedue’s brow furrows. “Don’t thank me for that. I’m in love with you for _you_ , not anything else.”

Ashe smiles, taking the hand that had been weaving in and out of Dedue’s hair and moving it to cup Dedue’s face lightly, pulling him in for a kiss, chaste as they had started. He pulls away before it can deepen again.

“I know I said it before, but I truly, completely trust you.”

“Thank you for trusting me,” Dedue replies in a whisper.

Ashe curls into Dedue, laying his head against Dedue’s shoulder. He feels Dedue’s hands on his back now, stroking much like he had done before. It’s comfortable and sends warmth through Ashe, not like from before, but something comforting and stabilizing. He relaxes, every muscle softening into a puddle.

He thinks he could fall asleep like this, but soon, too soon, Dedue’s hands stop. “Don’t fall asleep yet. Have you had anything to eat this evening?”

Ashe thinks on it, but before he can answer, his stomach grumbles. “Ah. I guess I forgot.” Reluctantly, he stands, his back and legs sore from his position, and stretches, arms high above his head. He doesn’t miss the way Dedue’s eyes flit to the line of Ashe’s stomach that becomes visible when Ashe’s shirt raises just slightly. It’s still new to realize he’s being looked at in that way, but with Dedue, it’s… it’s good.

“Com’on, I’ll cook us something,” Ashe says, taking both of Dedue’s hands into his own and pulling his partner to his feet. He holds on to Dedue’s arms as his legs shake, probably numb from how long Ashe had been sitting in his lap.

Dedue opens his mouth like he’s going to protest. Ashe lifts a brow. He is going to take care of Dedue, and Dedue knows it. Dedue bites his cheek, swallows the words that were on the tip of his tongue. “Okay. I’d like that.”

Ashe beams at him, “Good. You can just sit back and relax and let me take care of you for once.”

Dedue’s face breaks into a red flush, and Ashe thinks for a moment on what he said. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up with the implications. “I totally did not mean— I mean maybe eventually.” Maybe sooner than eventually. “Dedue, stop laughing. Dedue!”

Dedue is shaking, trying not to laugh, biting his lip with the effort. He turns away from Ashe, pulling him along towards the door. “My apologies.” He doesn’t sound very sorry.

Ashe’s chest warms from the core. He is so, so in love. It doesn’t matter at what pace they move.

Ashe takes Dedue’s hand, tracing along Dedue’s thumb with his own, and hopes Dedue knows just how much he loves him.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU so much for reading! I respond to every comment!
> 
> [Find me on Twitter](https://twitter.com/JaybirdSpec)
> 
> (Also, Dedue’s mysterious demi friend is Mercedes.)


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